Work Text:
He knows that you know something’s not quite right. He pauses in his journal entry as he risks a glance in your direction. You were focused, head bent over your work, leaving him the sight of your curved neck. Sensing that you are being observed, you look up across the lab and meet his eyes.
He can almost fancy that he can hear your heartbeat change as he resumes writing, the steady thump-thump rising to a faster tempo. He can feel your stare as he looks down at his page… now, your heart’s rhythm goes back to resting. Ford has always felt a comfort in your presence, now it seemed to be permeating the whole house… warm, inviting. It’s become a distraction.
He needed to recall in detail what he had observed of his latest creature sighting, he crosses out his last line, realising that he had actually written about you in his distracted state. He just needed to convince you that he was fine, so he could continue to observe the effects, he had most of an antidote ready once he had recorded what he needed.
It had all started a few days ago, you had been at an out of town harvest fair. You had tried to persuade Ford to take a step out of the lab for once, though he declined. It was the perfect evening to study the nocturnal fungi species he had been observing in the forest.
Suddenly, out of nowhere he had been chased, heard the beating of leathery, wide wings of a bat-like creature. It had pursued him for half of the journey and despite his frantic attempts to shake him off, the creature had been able to sink his claws into him and left a bite before he managed to get some good punches in, rolling off of a verge down into thicket. The vampiric creature flew off at that point, whether it was the forest terrain or the fighting that had deterred it from following him home from there, he didn’t know for certain.
You had found him, of course you had. He had lost so much time, that by the time he had gotten over the threshold, his strength had weakened, he’d dragged himself into the kitchen by the time you pulled up in your car. He could imagine now, how disturbing it must’ve been to see the house and him in such a state on your return. However, he didn’t catch it at the time, your determined mind a useful asset times of emergencies, patching him up. He had felt proud in that moment, despite his position, your attributes were perfect qualities in an assistant. Even if he had to endure a mild reprimand to lone working from you after the fact, he congratulated himself that he had found someone up to the tasks that his research would need.
You had insisted that he see a doctor, just in case, maybe the creature could’ve carried rabies. As the days wore on, though, he knew you weren’t satisfied with his explanations. You hadn’t said anything, but from your breathing, how your eyes widened, he sensed the slight fear. It was foolish of him, but Ford was only just realising your observant nature was not purely limited to study, but to people and your surroundings. Had you always been scrutinising him in this way before?
Ford felt a nagging guilt at the idea of withholding information from you, however, he didn’t want you to freak out. You could be mad at him later and once you saw his results, he was sure that you couldn’t be upset for long. After all, wasn’t it you he had caught reading those cheap, gothic romances a month into your acquaintance? It still amused him to find you at your desk during breaks reading them, irked that you had been interrupted. Sometimes he even found them on the shared counterspace in the lab and he had gleaned that vampires seemed to be a common denominator.
Part of him wished that Fiddleford was still here, having left you both for a long stay with family, although his good friend was more superstitious than either of you put together. Perhaps the house was too quiet without him? Though that didn’t seem right.
Working silently with someone who didn’t feel the need to converse (or play the banjo at odd hours) wouldn’t have bothered him before, in fact he liked how you weaved past one another in the lab when you were working on the same analysis, completely in tune. But something had shifted… his new state was testing his endurance, if only he had another distraction…
A hand waved in front of his face and he dropped his pen. “Earth to Ford!”
“Yes?”
“I’ve finished the first round of the experiment!” You grinned, beckoning him to follow you to your side of the lab. “I think it might need just a little adjustment with the amount of sample I used but…”
Absorbed in your own explanation, your elbow knocked over the tripod that held your analysis.
“Be careful!”
“Shit, sorry I’ve got it!”
The crucible had broken, and you scrambled to pick it up and sliced one of your fingers in the process, letting out a hiss at the sting.
Ford had let in a breath at that moment. Big mistake. His senses had been flooded with the delicious scent of your blood. He dug his fingers into the flesh of his arm to centre himself.
He could feel saliva flood into his mouth, the soreness in his canines and tried to swallow. His vision became tunnelled, focused now on the scents of the room. He could hear his own heartbeat, fast and erratic in his ears. Not now!
“Clumsy me, stay back, I don’t want you to get acid on you!” You hadn’t picked up on anything strange about him as he moved back. Your voice sounding far away.
After sweeping up the broken pieces into the waste bucket, instinct made you go to put your bleeding finger into your mouth. Ford caught your arm harshly.
“Don’t do that!” You looked at him quizzically. Ford could sense the fluctuations in your heartbeat. When you breathed in, the muscles in your neck, your jugular, became more prominent at this angle. Fuck. “It’s not hygienic.”
“It’s like a papercut, Ford.” The thump, thump, thump became steady again.
“Here.” Quickly handing you a tissue to stem the flow, he opened the packaging on a band-aid.
You noticed the clench to his jaw. “I’m fine, you know, I can patch myself up.”
But he continued without saying anything, securely wrapping your finger, the tension remaining.
Ford was packing items back into the first aid kit when he suddenly stumbled, holding onto the counter so he didn’t fall. “Hey! Ford, you alright?”
“Ah, fine, I- um…”
You frowned. “I really think you need to go to see a doctor; this isn’t right.” Before he could stop you, your hands were cupping his face, checking him over. The heat of your hands felt like fire on his skin. “Your wound looks worse. And you’re freezing!”
“Maybe you’re right. I’ll go in the morning, first thing, don’t worry.”
Ford told you to continue with what you were doing, and you relented under assurances that he’d take care of himself. He saw the disappointment in your eyes as he brushed you off. It took all of his will to not grab hold of you right then and there, wanting to sink into your touch and your care. You and Fidds were always clucking round him like mother hens. He felt so tired, his mind wanted him to give into it, but he pushed himself up the stairs, feeling with each step that haze that had almost overpowered him dissipate.
He let out a groan of relief once he closed his bedroom door. His skin felt like it was in a cold sweat. He dragged a hand through his hair and pulled at the roots to sharpen his focus. He couldn’t keep this up much longer, he needed to feed. Later, he told himself. Later.
______________________
Slipping out of your shoes, you navigated the quiet hallways of the shack, your home away from home, with care.
Ever since he had the encounter with that giant bat creature in the woods, he hasn’t been the same, perhaps anyone else would not notice the slight changes in his patterns, since he was one to neglect himself and bury himself in work on a daily basis, but you knew better. You had become determined to figure it out, once and for all.
He was too stubborn for his own good, something you clashed on at times, and so you hadn’t pushed him too much to seek medical attention, knowing there was a fine balance in how much you could say to Ford as his assistant. You had your suspicions of what was happening, but even then, it seemed absurd; you had seen some strange things happen in Gravity Falls, but could that really be real?
Just in case. Just for my peace of mind, you reassured yourself as you pulled the journal out of the pile of notes on Ford’s desk, flipping through sections to skip to the last entries. There must be something in here that can give you a clue to how to help him…
There was always a dim light in the lab, a faint bluish glow from the machinery that Fiddleford was working on. Sneaking around like this felt illicit and you knew that Stanford wouldn’t take kindly to you going through his work without permission. Turning on the desk lamp felt like it would dispel the stillness of the empty place and so you strained your eyes to read on in the light already provided.
A creak sounded from behind you, sending a jolt of panic to your gut.
“You shouldn’t be down here. It’s late.” The light backlit the figure’s silhouette as they stepped out from the doorframe, the tone unreadable.
“S-Stanford!” You retreated from the desk. “You startled me. I was just-”
“-Sneaking around in the dark?” As he stepped forward, turning on one of the lamps, the warm lighting disrupting the angle of the shadows.
“Look, I apologise if I have crossed a line but,” You paused in your answer, noticing behind him in the storage room, where discarded cups had rolled across the table, leaving trails of blood. “I want to know what’s going on.”
“And what will you do with the answer?” The reply made you grit your teeth, hands balling up into fists. You felt awash with adrenaline. How dare he ask you such a thing! Did he think after all this time you’d do anything against him?
Without even thinking of it consciously, Ford had been stalking towards you as you had been backing away and you bumped into the counter behind you.
“I just want to help you, Ford!” You didn’t mean for it to come out sounding indignant. It was almost a whine as Ford practically pinned you to the spot, gripping the counter either side of you. Your breath hitched at how close he was.
"I can hear your heartbeat." Ford’s eyes were dark as ink as he met your gaze. You shivered. “It's beating pretty fast.”
“Ford,” You let out a nervous laugh. “C'mon you're messing with me.”
“Seems to happen every time I get close to you. Do I make you nervous?”
“N-no I, nhg!” Your reply is cut off as Ford leans down to place a soft kiss to the inside of your wrist. The touch tickles your skin, making you flush with pleasure at the intimate sensation.
“Couldn’t stop yourself, could you?” It seemed like he was murmuring to himself, nuzzling his head into your hand and you catch a glimpse of pearly, sharp canines. “You want to help me? Because I don’t think I can stop myself right now.”
Even as alarm bells flood your mind at the situation, you didn’t stop him, didn’t pull away from his touch. Instead you gently pushed your thumb across his lips, inspecting the fangs, another shot of fear coursing through you. Stunned, you watched as Ford pressed a kiss to your wrist, opened his jaw and bit into your flesh in a supernaturally fluid motion.
The scream that escaped your mouth became stuck in your throat as the pain seared through you. It felt as though his fangs had hit bone.
The muscles in your body locked up. Heart thudding against your own chest, tears flowing unbidden from your eyes. You whimpered as Ford’s mouth felt tight around your now-open wound, free hand striking out at the table for support.
The stabbing pain suddenly subsided, leaving in its wake a pleasure that made you feel like you were on the drunk side of tipsy. It thrummed through your body, down between your legs.
You moaned, unable to look away from the sight of Ford, eyes glazed over as he took what he wanted from you.
Why had he resisted for so long?
The animal blood he had been gorging himself on just a moment ago, faded away in comparison to human blood. The salty taste of your skin giving him a complete contrast to the sweetness of your blood that was as blissful as it was hard to describe.
He felt every throb of your heart as he fed from you uncoiling his self-control, the shame in his gut from hurting you mixing with the lust he had pushed down for far too long. It wasn’t until your fingers carded through the side of his hair that a flash of clarity came over him and he loosened his grip on your arm. Soothing the bite with his tongue.
“Fuck, you taste incredible.” He growled.
This had to be some kind of dream of yours, some fantasy come to life as you stared blearily into the hungry look of the man in front of you. Now it was your turn to pull him in, pressing your lips to his, the metallic taste of your own blood on his tongue.
"I need to taste more of you." His touch roamed over you, fingers dipping under your clothes before he paused. "Can I?"
"Yes, god, yes.” You didn't have to wait long, helping him to push off your pants, flinging them to the side by the time his mouth was on you. Lips trailing across your inner thigh. If your head wasn’t swimming with desire, you would have felt a little embarrassed at how wet you had become since the researcher had fed from your wrist.
But Ford wasted no time, mouth warm and insistent, humming as you moaned, the vibrations making you tip your head back.
Though, you could tell his movements were careful, and you wondered whether he hesitated from not wanting to hurt you or from inexperience.
“Ford, please." Taking hold of his hand on your hip, you guided him.
“Yes, yes! Like that.” He was a quick learner, slipping his fingers into your wet pussy, relieving the ache you had felt.
Ford’s little pleased noises from your praise was setting you alight. His tongue glided through your folds, flicking up to your clit, his prominent nose adding extra stimulation as he ate you out.
“So good.” Your fingers once again ran through his hair, this time gripping as you reached your climax, whimpering as Ford lapped at your sensitive skin, savouring the taste of you.
There was a moment where you both caught your breath.
“Wow! That was amazing.” Ford looked dishevelled, a rare sight for you as he was usually so composed. Even when you had both been running from danger, he didn’t look like… this.
His face wasn’t the only part of him that was flushed, the ruddy colour dusted over the tips of his ears and over his chest. Tiny specks of blood littered his white shirt like freckles. Further down you could see the straining bulge in his pants, untouched. His pupils were blown, raking over you from head to toe in a way that made you feel conscious that you must also look a wreck. He felt warmer to the touch now and you filed that thought away for later analysis. That’s when you noticed that he wasn’t nearly as undressed as you are. That seemed unfair.
He said your name. “-I… It was, remarkable! But I’m sorry I didn’t mean to- are you, oh!”
Ford ceased to remember what he was trying to say as you kissed him, fingers quickly unbuttoning his shirt.
He helped you to push up onto the counter, shrugging his shirt off as he went, pulling more off of you as you nibbled at his ear and down his jawline.
“I need you.” Your touch went to his waist and he paused to unbuckle his pants. God, he had already left a wet spot on his boxers and you gasped into his mouth as you felt him. He was thicker than you had ever had before.
Ford leant onto the desk, gently pushing you backwards as he took up the space between your thighs. He pushed his cock against your slick folds, teasing you for a moment with the tip to watch you buck into his touch before he pushed himself all the way in. A guttural moan escaping from him as your pussy clenched around him.
His hands spread over the warm skin of your torso, pushing up your sweater which you discarded.
“Doing so well for me.” He rolled your nipples between his fingers as he continued his slow pace. You begged for him to use his mouth and when he did, it felt incredible, the barest hint of fangs along soft skin as he sucked at your tits. “Perfect.”
You whined, loud, clenching around his cock.
Ford let out a soft noise. It was familiar to you, like when he found something unexpected within his research, or you did something he found surprising. “You like that?”
The smirk that was starting to form on his face was devastating. He could hear as your heartbeat thrummed once more into the rhythm that thrilled him, continuing to praise you.
“So perfect… So beautiful… Feel so good.”
But his newfound confidence started to crack as he started to get close, his grunts and groans becoming louder and more drawn out, lost in the feeling as you blissfully moved to a faster pace. Tugging at his hair once more to watch him keen.
When two of Fords thick fingers reached down to circle your clit, you faltered.
“Please, please cum. Please, honey. N-need to, ah, need to feel it!”
Ford bit down just above your clavicle, brow resting against your shoulder as he devoured you once again. Your eyes were starting to roll back as you held onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into soft flesh, hearing him groan in response. Tightening around his cock, each thrust of his hips hitting that delicious spot within you. Tipping right on the edge, you didn’t want this to end, trembling as you felt Ford drag his tongue over the new bite.
“So beautiful and mine. All mine.” He groaned, looking at you slack jawed, chin shiny with spit and cum. “Mine.”
The words went straight to your core and you came, back arching as you let the waves crash through you, bringing Ford over the edge by the rocking your hips. He held you close as you rode it out together, murmuring softly.
Although you had no idea what he said, head feeling fuzzy as he released you. You caught your breath and slid off of the counter, but your legs felt unsteady.
Ford called your name. “You alright?”
You wanted to reassure him, but you felt dead on your feet, head slumping against his chest.
He cursed under his breath. “Ah, I-I’m sorry! Sorry, there,” Ford quickly scooped you up, over his shoulder. “I’ve got you, darling.”